First Day of School
by TheComplex
Summary: She couldn't let him come back. He'd hurt her Mom again. Maybe even kill her. She won't let him. She won't let him do it. A short story providing some closure on that chilling night when our 9 year old heroine fired a gun for the first time.


**My second fanfiction and first Fringe story. I don't own Fringe, all characters (excepting Rob) are strictly J.J. Abrams'.**

First Day of School

by Delmantheevil

It happened on the first day of school.

It was near the end of their last class session. The boys and girls sitting around her were fidgeting in their seats, ready to bolt out the door the moment the bell rang. The room was teeming with spring fever.

Olivia was the opposite.

She stared intently at the clock, hoping that by doing so she could somehow slow down time. She did not want to go home.

Despite her best efforts, the bell rang right on schedule. She gathered her things slowly and walked down the maze of hallways to Rachel's classroom.

A flood of whooping children were pouring out of the doorway when she reached it but Olivia didn't see Rachel among them. Finally when it was clear she poked her head into the room. Her sister was at the back of the classroom, still sitting at her desk, giggling with three other girls.

Olivia quirked a small smile and just observed the scene for a moment. It was Rachel's first day in the 2nd grade and she had already made three new friends. Apparently mother nature had a cruel sense of humor and had neglected to pass Olivia the social gene that all other girls seemed to possess. She was glad, at least, that her sister was blessed with the ability to act like normal human being.

"Rach." She called to her sister.

Rachel looked her way. The smile slipped off her face. It was time to go home.

Their house was four blocks away, but they walked as slowly as possible, stopping to study bugs, practicing their balance skills by walking across fences, and discussing their awful new teachers.

Their plan worked for a while. But eventually home found them. The suspense increased as they trekked up the lawn. What would they find inside?

The front door was unlocked and the living room light was on.

"Mom?" Rachel called out tenatively.

Their Mother came walking out of the kitchen, a cheerful smile lighting her face.

They breathed in a sigh of relief. He wasn't here. Perhaps their first day of school would be a good day after all.

There wasn't too much homework to be done so they spent the afternoon riding bikes in the street and decorating the carport with blue and pink chalk. When the evening came they spent it in the kitchen helping their Mother make dinner. They talked about school, new teachers, old friends, and long days, then laughed when Rachel dumped an entire can of tomato sauce over her front as she tried to demonstrate exactly how long her new teacher's nose was.

When they finally sat down for dinner, the whole house smelled delicious. The aroma of steaming marinara sauce and garlic bread was irresistible. But it wasn't as good as the taste. It was one of the best meals Olivia could ever remember having. And not just because of the food. Everyone was happy and content.

Until he came home.

Somehow they didn't hear him pull up. They just heard him coming up the walk and swinging open the door. He let it hit the wall with a bang. He stumbled into the house and looked at them all still sitting around table. Rachel had shrunk down into her chair. The cheery atmosphere from a moment ago had vanished into nervous anticipation.

He stared at them for a long time, then said in a slurred voice. "So you didn't bother to set a place for me?"

"Oh." Their Mom answered, standing up, "I'll go get you a plate."

"Nah, nah, sit down." He protested in a sickly sweet tone, putting up his hand, "You don't have to get up for me. You don't even gotta wait for me. Just go ahead and start eating without me. I don't mind.

Their Mother glanced down at the empty plates guiltily.

He looked over at Olivia and Rachel.

"Was it good?" He asked sarcastically.

They knew better than to answer.

"You girls graffitied all over my clean driveway."

"It's chalk." Olivia inserted quietly.

"You think I care what it is?" He yelled.

"It comes off with water, honey." Their Mom told him in a calming voice.

But there was no calming their stepdad when he was drunk.

"I don't care how you get it, but I want it off, and I want it off tonight! I work hard every day to keep this house looking good, and these little demons just put all their time, energy, and effort into destroying everything in sight!"

Nobody said a word so he stormed into the kitchen. Their Mom let out a long breathe. He came back with a plate. He plopped down, slopped on spaghetti and meatballs, and grabbed some bread from the middle of the table. He ate while the rest of them just sat there in silence, trying to avoid looking at him.

"Who messed up the sauce?" He muttered under his breathe.

Olivia felt a surge of anger. She wanted to get up and leave the table. He always ruined everything.

Rachel had picked up her plate.

"May I be excused?" She asked, looking at her Mother.

Their stepfather answered instead. "No you may not. Nobody's leaving until I've finished eating."

"They need to go to bed, Rob, they have school tomorrow and it's getting-." But he cut her off.

"Well, I'm really sorry about that," He said mockingly, "but hey, who decided to eat without me?"

"You don't usually make it home for dinner." Their Mother answered, her voice a little stronger this time.

"Well you could've called, now couldn't you?"

"Well, I'm sorry!" She yelled back angrily.

"Yeah, well, it's the girls that are sorry now, aren't they?" He cut back.

"You don't have to punish them for this!"

"Well sorry to tell ya that that's the way it's gonna be! My house, my rules! The girls stay until I say they can leave."

They were both standing up, staring each other down.

Their Mom turned to them.

"Go brush your teeth and go to bed you two." Her voice was quivering but determined.

Rob kicked a chair. Hard.

"I said they stay!"

But the girls were already hurrying down the hall, their parents' yells still echoing behind them.

"This is about you and me, keep my kids out of it!"

"As long as they live in my house, they're my kids!"

Olivia shut the bathroom door hurriedly and turned the faucet on full to block out the noise. Rachel was practically in tears. Olivia patted her back and encouraged her to finish brushing her teeth without thinking about what had happened.

They ducked into the bedroom they shared, quickly slipped on their pajamas, turned off the light, and climbed into their twin beds.

The door only muffled the yelling.

Olivia lay in her bed, no where remotely close to sleep, and listened as her mother and stepfather screamed at each other. This had happened many times before but it never got any easier. She stiffened every time she heard a crash, her mind providing horribly vivid imaginations of what might be happening down the hall.

"Liv. I'm scared." Came Rachel's shaky voice through the dark.

"Don't be scared. I won't let anything happen to you." Olivia told her sister confidently. She always felt braver when Rachel was scared.

"But what if he kills Mommy?" The whisper sent chills down Olivia's spine. "Who will take care of us? Aunt Missy lives so far away, and Grandma doesn't even remember my name when I tell her over and over."

"Shhh, Rachel. Don't worry. I'll take care of us."

"But what if we have to live outside all by ourselves? How will we eat?"

"That won't happen. But even if it did, I would get some food for you."

Rachel wasn't reassured. "But you only know how to make P.B. and J."

There was a huge crash from the other room and more yelling. The sisters were silent for a long minute.

"What if he comes in here?" Rachel whispered finally, her voice so quiet Olivia almost missed it.

Olivia pulled offer her covers and hopped off the bed. She put her hand on the door knob, and turned towards her sister.

"I won't let him hurt you. I'll protect you, ok?"

She could just make out her sister nodding in the dark.

She opened the door and stepped half way out.

"No, Liv!" Rachel protested, "He'll just get madder!"

"I'll be alright." Olivia reassured her. She stepped out noiselessly, closing the door behind her.

She slunk down the hallway, the carpet muffling her footsteps. She stopped when she reached the end of the hallway and peeked around the corner. The living room was a mess, smattered with overturned chairs and scattered books. Rob was towering over her Mother who was yelling at the top of her voice.

"-because you go out drinking every night! I don't even recognize you when you come home!"

"I go out drinking because I dread coming home to you and your miserable attitude! You go around seeing other men behind my back and then spend every moment we have together criticizing me for MY habits!"

"I've never cheated on you, Rob, you know that! And yes, I am miserable, but YOU'RE the one that makes me this way! You never say you love me anymore! And the girls! You don't even try to get to know them!"

"THAT'S BECAUSE YOU CAN'T SEE THAT THOSE 'PRECIOUS' LITTLE GIRLS OF YOURS ARE TWO LITTLE BRATS WHO CONSTANTLY TRY THEIR BEST TO MAKE MY LIFE A LIVING HELL!"

"AND I SHOULD HAVE SEEN FROM THE BEGINNING THAT YOU WERE NEVER WORTHY TO BE CALLED THEIR FATHER!"

He punched her in the face. She went down, hitting the hardwood floor with a awful 'thump.'

"No!"

Olivia was running to her mother before she even realized she was the one who yelled. She knelt down and put her arms around her sobbing mother, determined to protect her. But her stepfather had already stormed out the front door, slamming it behind him.

She had woken up in the morning and seen bruises on her Mom's face, but she had never actually witnessed the act before. And it had certainly never been this bad. Her Mom was bleeding everywhere, nose shattered from the blow. She heard Rob's truck start outside.

Olivia got up and ran to the window. She had to make sure he really left. She saw the truck pull out of the drive way and screech off down the street. He was gone.

She turned around just in time to see her Mother retreat into the bathroom and close the door, leaving a trail of crimson drops behind her. She walked over to the doorway and tried the knob. It was locked.

She pressed her hands up against the door, not knowing what to do. She could hear her Mom's sobs from the other side. A feeling of utter helplessness overwhelmed her. Tears were threatening to leak out of the corners of her eyes.

She didn't know what to do.

She wanted to take away her mother's pain and her sister's fear. She wanted to make it all better. But she couldn't. If she was bigger and stronger she could've. She rested her forehead against the door, struggling to keep the tears from falling.

Then she heard the truck coming down the street again.

He was coming back.

She was frozen staring at the window. Her breathing sped up.

She couldn't let him come back. He'd hurt her Mom again. Maybe even kill her. She won't let him. She won't let him do it.

She ran down the hall as fast as she could and burst into her parents' bedroom. She went straight to the closet and got out a shoebox from under the shoe rack. She opened the lid and pulled out the loaded handgun inside of it. She'd found it there last summer. It belonged to her stepfather now, but it used to be her real Dad's.

She walked resolutely out of the bedroom and opened the door to her bedroom. She made sure the door covered the gun so sister couldn't see.

"Rachel." She called, even though she knew she was still awake.

"What happened?" Rachel whispered back in a frightened voice.

Olivia shook her head.

"Nothing." She lied. Rachel didn't need to know what happened. "Listen, Rach, don't come out of here. No matter what happens, don't leave this room, alright?"

Rachel's voice was unsure, but obedient, "Ok." She agreed.

Her feet felt unusually heavy and the hallway seemed to go on forever, but finally she was in the living room. She walked to the middle of the room, faced the front door and planted her feet firmly on the smooth floor.

She lifted the gun.

It was heavy.

She aimed it at the place where she knew her stepfather would appear at any moment. She could hear him coming up the walk. Her heart was racing but her hands were steady. She wouldn't let him come into the house. The door swung open.

She pulled the trigger.

It hit him in the chest, too far to the right to kill. The kick from the gun made her stumble backwards a few steps.

She pulled the trigger again.

This time she kept her balance. The second bullet hit him in the stomach.

His face was surprised for a moment. He looked down at where the bullets had entered his body. Then he was on his knees, shock taking over.

Her gun was still trained on him even though he couldn't move.

He lifted his head and locked eyes with her. His held a challenge. They dared her to do it. They dared her to finish it.

She wanted to.

But she refused to be like him.

She lowered the gun.

He smiled like he he had won. His eyes called her weak. They mocked her.

She heard the bathroom door bang open behind her just as he fell backwards to the ground, unable to hold himself up any longer.

She turned around to see her mother, frozen mid-step, eyes wide and locked on the man who lay just outside the doorway covered in his own blood.

"Olivia…"

Her Mother's voice was horrified.

She could tell her Mom was in shock. She knew it was up to her. She walked around her frozen Mom over to the living room table and picked up the phone. She punched in 9-1-1. With the phone resting against her ear, she leaned back against the wall and slowly slid down into sitting position. Her right hand was still grasping the gun like a lifeline between her knees.

Rob moaned outside. The sound seemed to snap her Mother back to reality. She ran to him, grabbing a jacket off the coat hanger as she went. She knelt down next to him and used the coat to try to stop the bleeding.

_"911, what is your emergency?"_

"My stepdad's been shot. Twice. One time in the chest and one time in the stomach."

A pause.

_"We're sending an ambulance to your location. Is the shooter still in the house?"_

"Yes. I shot him."

_"You-?"_

Another pause.

_"How old are you sweetie?"_

"Nine."

_"Is anyone else in the house?"_

"Yes. My Mom and my sister. My Mom is trying to stop the bleeding. He-he was going to hurt her."

Yet another pause.

_"Ok honey, listen to me, don't hang up the phone. Stay on until the police come, alright?"_

"Alright."

It didn't take very long until she heard the sirens coming up the street. She hung up the phone and walked down the hall feeling eerily calm.

She cracked open the door to her room. The light from the hall illuminated Rachel's scared face. Her eyes were huge.

"Don't worry, Rachel. He can't hurt us anymore."

Her voice sounded dead.

She turned around and walked back down the hall. Her sense of reality was slipping away. She felt like she was walking through a dream.

Somehow she was back in the living room sitting against the wall without really knowing how she got there. She couldn't remember how much time slipped by as she sat there numbly watching the paramedics strap down her stepfather and roll him away. She didn't notice that she was freezing until a paramedic came over and slipped a blanket around her shoulders. Strange. It was hot outside.

The next thing that registered in her mind was two policemen crouched in front of her trying to coax her into handing over her gun. They sounded like they were talking to a dangerous, wounded animal. She handed it over and they put it into a plastic bag. They led her over to the kitchen and sat her down at the dining room table next to her Mom and Rachel. They asked her questions for what seemed like forever.

_Did she see her stepfather hit her Mom?_

Of course she had.

_Had she felt like her life was in danger? Had she felt like her mother or her sister's life was in danger?_

She'd shot him, hadn't she?

_How many times had she shot him?_

Didn't they already know?

They carefully wrote down everything she said.

_Where had she found the gun?_

They were talking to her too kindly, like she was crazy or like she was a helpless little girl. She didn't feel like a little girl anymore.

_Why did she shoot him?_

She just wanted to go to sleep.

She noticed that Rachel's eyes were glued to her, a look of awe and admiration on her face. As if she were a hero.

Her mother couldn't even look her in the eye.

Another policeman walked over and informed them that Rob was in surgery but his wounds were very severe. He probably wouldn't make it through the night.

Finally they were finished. Everyone who passed by patted her on the back. They told her she had done the right thing, that she had been very, very brave.

She didn't feel very brave.

A policewoman came by and placed a chocolate chip cookie and milk in front over her. She smiled. Olivia noticed the engraved metal plate pinned to the woman's uniform. She made a silent oath to herself. She pledged that one day she would wear that badge.

When the police leave, all three of them fell asleep together in their Mother's bed.

The next day they got the news that Rob would live after all. That he would make a full recovery. She felt guilty for feeling disappointed.

Three weeks later, they moved to Boston.

Four weeks later they found out Rob checked himself out of the hospital and no one has seen him since.

On her 10th birthday she got her first card from him.

May all your birthday wishes come true this year.

She burned it without showing her Mom.

And every night when she lies in her bed, unable to fall asleep, she wonders where he is and if he'll come back.

The End

**Hope you liked it. Constructive criticism appreciated.**


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